Disclaimer: Me No own Shit
Writings of the Phantom Family Failure.
A/N: I was flipping channels on my TV and I saw the last episode of Danny Phantom where Sam and Danny fly off, fairy tale style. And I started wondering what their kids would be like if they had any. So I found a few fics about that and the idea wouldn't leave. So I wrote it out just so it would stop bugging me. I'm probably gonna leave it alone unless reviews ask otherwise, but I don't know how many people read Danny Phantom fanfics anymore so I probably wont get much feedback. Long winded rant aside, enjoy the story.
Whoever said that writing in a journal would make you feel better was either flat out lying or was a complete moron. First off, I just wanna say that the only reason I'm doing this is to get my Aunt Jazz off my back. She ambushed me this afternoon when I came down to grab a sandwich. Apparently my quiet disposition and the fact I sleep a lot has convinced her that I'm depressed and in need of her psychology brilliance to save me.
P.S. Aunt Jazz, you said what I wrote would be private. So stop reading it over my shoulder and stop glaring at me.
Well here, you're probably confused. Let me backtrack and clarify some things.
What do you mean, why am I writing like that? You said write as if you were talking to an audience. And stop reading this over my shoulder!
Why am I writing my responses down? I'm compiling evidence to get a restraining order. I've already got some good footage of you picking the lock to our back door last week and going through me and mom's stuff.
It's not supposed to be funny, because I'm not joking
Eh, sorry got side-tracked, last time, promise. Anyway back to the clarifying thing. My name is Jacy, although most people call me Jay. (don't look at me like that, I didn't pick the name!) and uh my last name is Fenton. Yeah, you read that right FENTON, my dad is the famous Danny Fenton. Well, you guys probably know him as Danny Phantom if you haven't been living under a rock. Wipe that star struck look off your face, I'm not getting you an autograph. Uh, sorry, got a little hostile there didn't I? Sorry 'bout that but you would be hostile too if you spent most of your life not knowing if the people around you wanna know you, or use you to meet your famous parents. But I'm not bitter, man, don't even worry about that. Not Bitter At All.
Just some more information about my life (this is only in here cause Jazz won't let me and my sandwich leave until I fill a couple more pages.) Uh, what else can I tell you? My mom is Sam Manson, who named me and my little sister, so blame her for the weird names we have. I guess I inherited my sense of style from her, cause I seriously doubt my dad ever wore tripp pants.
Describe myself? No way! That's seems so narcissistic! Wait! You win, put my sandwich down.
Alright. Uhmm, well as you know my name is Jacy Fenton. I'm a sixteen year old goth-looking kid of average height. I have black hair that currently has neon green streaks in it. It is shoulder length on the sides and back with bangs that fall to the tip of my nose to hide my deep blue eyes.
More! You want more than that? Evil, you are evil!
OK well, uh, my normal outfit consists of tripp pants of various colors, combat boots, and either a band t shirt or a black hoodie. Usually I wear a couple wrist bands, nothing with spikes though, those have become so cliché. The only accessory I wear other than that, is the tongue stud I gave myself as a birthday present last year. Uh, that's everything so…I'm gonna grab my sandwich and go.
What! Family now? Christ, I'd rather you kick me in the balls than make me write about that! PUT. THE. SANDWHICH. !
Well apparently my quota for suffering hasn't been met yet. So family info, here we go. First-off my Aunt Jazz is majorly crazy as you can probably tell. She is my dad's older sister and constantly threatens to destroy the last Nutella-filled sandwich in the house to black-mail me into doing horribly unpleasant things, it's a bad habit of hers. My mom is probably my favorite family member 'cause we have the most in common. She actually gave me my first Deadstar Assembly cd so I owe her till the end of time for that. She's also the least judgmental person I've ever met, like if you hurt an animal around her you're screwed, but other than that she's gonna be the nicest and most accepting person you ever meet. She gives great advice too, like you go to her with a problem and BAM! Good advice right there. So, yeah, she's my favorite.
Uh, my dad is a different story though. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy to death but, I dunno, it's kinda changed since the family realized I'm not getting ghost powers. Like have you ever had one of those experiences where you don't do something, and your dad's happy you didn't do it, but at the same time you can tell he's bummed out that he won't be able to share stories about those experiences with you? It was one of those situations, he was happy that I was gonna be a normal kid, but I could tell he was bummed that he wasn't gonna be able to teach me all that ghost junk. And then when Karliah (my little sister, keep up jeez) inherited? Activated? Received? I don't know how that genetic mess works. Anyways she got ghost powers and I kinda got pushed aside. Like dad was always doing his superhero thing and wasn't around much anyway. So when he started training her and stuff he kinda showed up at the house once in a blue moon, ya know? And then, before you know it both of them are going out all hours of the day to fight ghosts. The media even came up with a name for their father-daughter duo. They call them "Daddy and Daughter Phantom". Makes you feel kinda queasy right?
But I'm not bitter, don't worry about it, I'm actually happy I didn't get powers. Like I respect my dad for the way he lives his life, but risking my life for people I never met, not my thing, ya know? I'm kinda the family failure but, I don't worry about it. No sense being pissed about genetics screwing you. Come to think of it, I'm kinda like Robert from Everybody Loves Raymond. I'm around doing stuff, but not really getting acknowledged. One difference though. I'm not bitter about my situation, no I'm not bitter at all.
Not. At. All.
Now if you'll excuse me. Me and my sandwich have unfinished business to attend to.
A/N: hey that was my second fanfic ever, so any constructive criticism or comments would be greatly appreciated. Uh if you want the story to continue, leave a review saying so and if you think it works better as a one-shot leave a review. Can you tell I'm fishing for reviews, here? Anyway thanks for reading.